So I text her again.
Me:
Tal, please. I know.
Me:
Call me.
Me:
I’m coming.
There’s only one place she could be.
And luckily, I know the way there by heart.
I grab my keys from the counter and head for the door.
Bear tries to follow.
“Hey,” I say sharply, then soften when he whines. “No, buddy. Not this time.”
He presses against my leg, eyes wide.
I crouch and grip his collar gently.
“Stay,” I tell him, my voice low. “Watch the house.”
His tail wags uncertainly.
I stand and open the door.
Bear whines again as I step outside, but I don’t stop.
I can’t.
I get into the car and slam the door. My hands are shaking as I start the engine.
This feeling in my chest isn’t like anything I’ve dealt with before.
It’s not anger.
It’s not fear anymore, either.
It’s… resolve.
A brutal kind of clarity.
I pull out of the driveway, my mind racing.
She’s pregnant.
She must feel so alone. Scared of my reaction. Thinking this will be the worst possible news for me.
God.
I swallow hard and blink against the sting in my eyes.
